The Campfire - A Dead by Daylight Short
by LyricalWhisper
Summary: You are at the campfire again. It is a momentary refuge from the pain of the trials.


I sat alone on a warm log staring into a large campfire ahead of me. The logs never burned smaller and were never replaced, and the fire never dwindled in size or strength. I don't know how it was possible. Although, I don't know how I ever end up at this campfire either.

Occasionally, it seemed I am granted respite from the unending trials set by the Entity, and I wind up sitting at the campfire. It usually doesn't last very long, and I can't seem to figure out a logical pattern for when I arrive and leave. A similar thick fog that covers the trials seems to surround the fire, and all of my attempts to escape through it have landed me in a fresh trial.

Sometimes there are others. We are given the opportunity to chat, though there often isn't much to say. A few people are willing to discuss their life before becoming trapped here, though most don't want to think about it. The single consensus between everyone, however, is that we all have no idea how we ended up here in the first place.

I'm not sure if I'm dead. But I don't remember dying. In fact, I don't remember being in danger, or even feeling ill before I wound up here. The few conversations I've had here imply similar thoughts among us. Most people were just living their lives before we were all dumped in this place, forced to please the Entity that now pulls all our strings.

I felt a tug in the back of my mind. I grimaced, and steeled myself. The ground fell out from under me, and my body dipped into the abyss. I was used to it at this point. The first time it happened was terrifying, almost more so than being hunted and sacrificed. After falling for several moments, my body settled into a suspended state in shrouded darkness. Slowly, out of the fog came several glimmering, red tendrils, extending every which way with no discernible beginning or end. They felt, smelled, and tasted of fresh blood.

The Bloodweb is what this place has been nicknamed, naturally. I don't know who coined the term, but the rumors that spread around point to one of the first people who ever arrived here. Apparently they spent a lot of time studying this place; the trials, the killers, the entity, the Bloodweb. Their efforts have certainly made it easier for new survivors to adjust, if that's even possible.

I could feel a pull deep within my mind when viewing specific tendrils in the Bloodweb. Claiming certain parts of it seem to grant me and others items and skills to aid in our survival during the trials. I've noticed that new tendrils will sometimes show up that feel different. They have an essence of other survivors, like they're a special piece of knowledge that the Bloodweb has gifted to me.

As I grab a tendril, it snaps apart, the two ends twisting and slithering back into the darkness. I can feel new knowledge of skills enter my mind, and I know that there will be an item waiting for me in my next trial. I snap a few more tendrils, and the Entity shows up.

Even in the unending darkness from which I suspend, the presence of the Entity is darker still. With each new tendril I claim, it takes another, spreading a black, sickly substance across the length of the visible line. The sound of it nearly makes me retch.

After all of the visible tendrils have been claimed by either me or the Entity, I feel the suspension drop and my body falls further into the darkness. For seconds, minutes, or hours, I can't comprehend the length of time that has passed. Eventually I slow and suspend again, with a new set of tendrils that await claiming.

After I've claimed an unimportant number of tendrils, I feel a strong pull on my mind again, and a rush of air pushes my body skyward. In the blink of an eye I startle upwards, once again sitting at the campfire. Just like my random appearance at the campfire, I can't seem to discern a pattern of how many tendrils I am allowed to claim before returning. I am also not granted a chance at the Bloodweb every time I return here.

It feels real, the Bloodweb. Though I theorize it's all in my mind, because it also feels like waking up from a dream as soon as I leave. Although, in a way, this entire place feels like a constant nightmare that none of us can wake up from. Nobody knows for sure how anything here actually works. All we can do is guess, and hope that someday we will be granted a true escape.


End file.
